


At the Ballet

by Walker_August



Category: British Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Ballet, Cutesy, Dancing, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Love, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 12:11:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17724950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walker_August/pseuds/Walker_August
Summary: Henry Cavill x reader





	At the Ballet

“I’m so sorry” Henry’s voice pleads with you to forgive him, even though you don’t blame him at all. This must’ve been the 15th time Henry had apologised for his flight being delayed in the last hour or so, while he was video calling you from the airport.

“Henry, it’s ok. Really. Stop apologising, please. We can make up for it when you get home” you tell him now, kindly, not wanting him to feel bad for something he had no control over even though you know he will continue to anyway. He exhales and runs a hand through his hair, looking regretful.

“I called the theatre to change the dates, but they’re sold out for the rest of the run, so I’ve put the tickets in your name. You can take someone else, and we’ll have to find another way to celebrate” he suggests, while you sigh at his well meaning efforts.

You had tickets to go to the ballet; not entirely Henry’s cup of tea but you had so wanted to go and it had been his present to you for your anniversary – you’d been dating for three years today. You wanted to spend the evening with him of course; a beautiful and romantic night with the man of your dreams. Instead, it looks like you’ll be taking a friend with you, which is fine but not quite what you had planned for when you booked a table at a fancy restaurant and bought a gorgeous outfit for the event.

“Ok, I’ll find someone. Thanks for doing that. I’ll see you in the morning, right?” you ask, wanting to hear from him that he’ll be home soon. You haven’t seen each other in so long since he’s been away filming.

“Absolutely. I’ll be there when you wake up” he smiles, and you feel your heart flutter at the thought of seeing him soon, even if it’s not as soon as you’d first expected. “I love you, enjoy your night” he finishes.

“Love you too. See you soon” you blow a kiss in to the camera and giggle when he acts like he caught it, before hanging up so you can call your best friend and see if they can join you.

—–

The next morning, you know the moment that you wake up that he’s home, because it always actually feels like home when he’s there; warm and bright, somehow. And because his suitcase lies in the corner of the room waiting to be unpacked. You yawn and stretch, happy to know he’s back, smiling wide when he walks in to the room just as you sit up.

“Morning, beautiful” he says, bright and cheerful despite the early hour, sitting on the bed next to you and laying a kiss to your temple.

“Hey” you whisper, suddenly feeling both fulfilled and desperately in need of his closeness. You wrap your arms around him and pull him towards you, his arms automatically closing around you too. “Missed you” you sigh in to his ear, kissing just under the lobe and then pulling back to plant one on his soft lips. You breathe with each other for a couple minutes, unspeaking, just reconnecting and each silently rejoicing in the feeling of being back together after so long.

Eventually he moves, just slightly away from you so he can brush his fingers through your hair and look in to your eyes. You sometimes forget just how mesmerising those blue eyes can be.

“How was last night?” he queries, curious but still clearly feeling bad about it.

“It was really, really nice. We had a great time, but I wished you were there every moment” you reply while running fingers along the scruff on his jaw. “Thank you for the tickets”

“Well I’m glad you enjoyed it at least, I won’t apologise again because I know you’ll hit me if I do but I wish I could’ve been there too. I was thinking we could do something tonight, to make up for yesterday? Shall I make us reservations somewhere or do you want to do something else? There’s a flight to Paris this afternoon I was eyeing up, we could run away together for a few days?”

“That’s incredibly romantic, but I have work tomorrow and I can’t just disappear” you pout, loving the idea of it but glad he didn’t go ahead a book anything without asking you. “I was thinking, since you spent so much on me with those tickets that maybe I could treat you? Let’s get dressed up and go somewhere nice. I have a whole new outfit I’d really like you to see” you simper sweetly, knowing he’ll be enticed.

“Colour me intrigued” he raises his eyebrows before kissing you quick. “For now, let me make you breakfast?”

“Stay here for a bit first, I’m not hungry just yet” you suggest, pulling him back to you. You let your urgent kisses do the rest of the talking, leaving him with no illusions as to how you want to spend your morning. It’s been so long, after all.

—–

“Henry, we’re leaving in an hour ok?” you call from the bedroom where you’re currently going through your lipsticks, trying to choose the perfect one to go with the outfit that’s hanging up ready to be put on.

“Hey, can you come out here for a second?” he shouts back from the living room.

“I’m right in the middle of getting ready, babe. What is it?”

“Please?” he entreats, and you can almost feel him making those puppy dog eyes at you through the wall.

You fake an exasperated sigh as you get up, “Ok, ok. I’m coming”.

Walking in to the room, you stop in your tracks; the lights are dim, some candles burning around the room, the sofa is pushed back to the wall leaving more space in the middle of the room, and there’s classical music playing quietly in the background. Henry is no where to be seen. “What’s going on?” you question, confused and a little nervous.

“Sit down, please” you hear his voice come from the kitchen and do as he asks, sitting on the sofa and finding a glass of bubbly on the small coffee table next to you. You’d be forgiven for thinking he’s about to propose. Instead, what happens next is just about the last thing you had expected.

The music gets louder, and you recognise the piece although you’re unsure from where. You take a sip of your drink as Henry comes out and almost spit it out when you see what he’s doing. Wearing his black gym leggings, the tightest ones, and a plain black t-shirt, a look of sheer concentration on his face. He’s dancing. Dancing a ballet. Sort of.

The moment he sees the look of surprise on your face he cracks a huge grin and soon starts laughing, even as he keeps going – it’s not quite ballet like you’ve seen it before, but it’s a surprisingly good attempt for someone who clearly has no idea what they’re doing. He’s oddly graceful considering his size. You join in on the laughing when he attempts a pirouette and very nearly falls on his ass then wobbles through a releve.

“Henry, what are you doing?” you ask between laughs, perplexed but entertained as he attempts an arabesque next, barely able to hold himself up now he’s chuckling to himself so hard. He stops for a second to calm down and catch his breath before continuing.

“We couldn’t go to the ballet together, so I thought I’d bring the ballet home to us. But I don’t know any ballet dancers, so you get me. How am I doing?” He replies, looking delighted with himself. He stops when the music comes to an end and bows in front of you as you applaud enthusiastically.

“Bravo!” you shout, pulling one of the flowers from the bouquet you’d bought last week so you can throw it to him. He catches it, then collapses next to you, breathing heavily. “You are an absolute idiot” you giggle, leaning over and placing a kiss on his cheek “Thank you, I loved it. I love you”

“So what do you think, time for a career move?”

“Hmmm…maybe keep this talent a secret, just for now”

“Noted” He chuckles at your response, resting a hand on your knee and leaning towards you slightly. “I’ll break this out when you need a good laugh. Happy anniversary, love, sorry it’s a day late” he kisses you then, delicate and slow.

“Happy anniversary Henry. You’re a goofball and the love of my life” you reply when the kiss ends, leaning against him and closing your eyes, listening to his heartbeat. He reaches for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and rests his head against the top of yours, breathing in the scent of your shampoo lingering on your hair.

“This is all I need” he sighs happily, content, and little do you know his thoughts are turning to the ring in his jacket pocket, and the proposal he has planned. It should’ve happened last night at the ballet, but it doesn’t matter too much where or when it happens – as long as you say yes, and if you can watch him dance as badly as he did just now and still love him this deeply, he’s pretty sure it’s going to be a yes.


End file.
